


Skin of stone

by jensencanfricklemyfrackle



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dragon/Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25684714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensencanfricklemyfrackle/pseuds/jensencanfricklemyfrackle
Summary: A species of human/ dragon hybrids turn to stone when they sleep. This is to protect you from danger and keep you safe during your 100-1000 year hibernation cycle. Once the danger passes, they wake up
Relationships: Bucky and his mother
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Prompt: your species turns to stone when they sleep. This is to protect you from danger and keep you safe during your 100-1000 year hibernation cycle. Today you woke up in a museum. 

“Mama? What’s going on?”

The small 5 year old was looking around with wide eyes as the earth beneath his feet trembled and shook, thick dark storm clouds gathering overhead, blocking out the sun. Everyone in the village were running to the hills, not even bothering to take anything with them.

Bucky’s mother grabbed his hand and started to run, following their friends and neighbours, up the hills and into the thick forest that surrounded the clearing where their village was located.

“Mama!” Bucky cried again, starting to cry as he stumbled along beside her, trying to get her attention and at the same time trying to keep up with her running pace. She just scooped him up in her strong arms and ran faster, her black wings tucked against her back, the tips just brushing the backs of her calves.

Bucky gave up and just clung to her, looking over her shoulder, eyes widening again as he saw the earth open up and swallow his village, falling down into the rapidly growing abyss. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable at that time to process the destruction of his home.

His mother was tall and lithe, strong and muscular enough to hunt and fight with the men, filling the role of his father, her husband, who had died a year after he was born, protecting them and the village from a rapid giant coyote wolf. It had gone mad, maybe by eating something poisonous or maybe by loneliness, but they will never know.

Bucky trusted and loved his mother, so he didn’t protest when she finally burst into a clearing after nearly 20 minutes of running, set him down and told him to listen. He nodded his head slowly, looking around and seeing that their whole village had gathered in the clearing, families and friends hugging each other and murmuring to each other which sounded like goodbyes.

“Bucky, baby, look at me”

Bucky turned to look at his mother, staring into her bright, bottomless blue eyes.

“My sweet baby, you and I are going to play a little game” she said softly, cupping his cheeks. “You go to sleep and then I will, okay?”

“that’s not really a game, mama” Bucky said softly, curling up against her, his own smaller wings folded against his back, the thick leather still soft and pliable, his scales not developed yet.

She chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “I know, sweetie, but I need you to sleep, to turn to stone”

Around them, the villagers were curling up and going to sleep. As they fell into a deep sleep, their skin and scales petrified to stone, smooth and dark and rendering them immobile until any perceived threat had passed, a protective measure that their species had developed overtime.

“Why, mama? What’s happening?”

His mother sighed and hugged him tight to her chest. “Don’t you worry about that, baby, mama will take care of you, all you need to do is sleep”

Bucky sniffled again but nodded. “Okay mama. Night night”

“Night night, my light” she cooed, using the nickname she knew he loved. “I love you so much, baby, everything will be alright”

Bucky slowly curled up on his knees, arms folded ad cushioning his head, wings spreading out to cover his body, only his head, arms, and feet visible. He peeked back up at his mother who smiled reassuringly back at him, using her body to block his view, the trees shaking and trembling behind her, the earth slowly cracking apart.

With that soothing smile playing in his mind, he closed his eyes and went to sleep, his skin stiffening and turning to stone, just as the earth around him cracked and he fell, deep into the earth.

And he stayed like that for the next 40 million years.


	2. Chapter 2

*1558*

“Sir! Sir, we found something!”

Sir Francis Drake, a famous explorer and eager adventurer, walked quickly over to the member of his crew who was standing just over a nearby hill, his eyes wide with disbelief.  
“What is it?” Drake asked, but the crew man just gestured at a point halfway down the other side of the hill, where a minor earthquake had sloughed away a quarter of the hill side, revealing a section of stone that uncannily looked like a face.

Drake blinked for a moment, digesting the sight before carefully stepping down the hill, making his way to the face that protruded from the earth. It wasn’t a full face, more like the top half and what looked like a shoulder and forearm.

“Alright men, lets dig this statue out” Drake announced, sheathing his sword and helping members of the crew down the hill to be at his side.

………………………

They spent the whole day carefully digging out the object which was revealed to be a statue of a young man. It was appropriately human sized, shaped and proportionate, except for the large wings that covered its whole body.

“Amazing” Drake murmured, peering closer at the rock that was intricately and delicately designed, it looked so real, and Drake felt that if he touched it, he might feel real skin.  
“Um, sir?” Drake was roused from his thoughts as a crew mate peered into the space they had dug the statue out of. “It’s odd, but there’s a bit of fossil here, with an imprint of a face – but it looks younger…”

Drake took the piece of rock out of the man’s hand and examined it before looking up. “Alright men, let’s get this thing onto the ship, I’ll gift it to our Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the first, a relic from a far and distant land, seemingly untouched by humanity”

*1712*

“Your Majesty, this is the royal historian, Sir Edward Gibbon”

The man bowed deep at the waist as he stood in the reception room in front of the royal throne where Queen Anne was sitting.

“It’s an honour to be here talking to you, your Majesty” Gibbons slowly straightened up, standing to attention. “I requested this meeting because I was looking through the storage areas in the far corner of the castle and have found something extraordinary that was gifted to one of your predecesors.”

He turned around as he stopped talking, making a gesture that prompted two men who began pulling in a low table that was suspended on wheels that had something large and heavy on it, which was covered by a tarp. The men delivered it to Gibbon’s side and he dramatically tore off the tarp to reveal the man sized and shaped rock sculpture, the rock material a deep black, smooth and incredibly detailed.

“Oh my” Queen Anne gasped softly, leaning forward to peer at the sculpture. “Oh dear, he looks so real… and so sad”

“Sad, your Majesty?”

“Yes, sad. Look at his face” the Queen gracefully stood and walked closer, bending at the knees slightly to become face level with the statue. “Look at this, it looks like a tear track. He’s crying”

Gibbon hummed something as he moved closer and examined the face. “You have amazing eyesight, your Majesty. Now, I just wanted to broach the subject about what you wanted to do with this sculpture.”

“Well…” Queen Anne paused, thinking about it for a moment as she walked back to her throne and sat down with the grace of royalty. “It is an incredible piece, but it is too sad for it to be displayed anywhere in the castle. Put it back where you found it”

“As you wish, my Majesty” Gibbons bowed down to her and backed out of the room with the statue and the Court introducer.

“So… you didn’t mention the description of the statue which mentioned the distinct youth, despite the statue evidently looking like a young man?”

“No. her Majesty said to put it back where it was before, and so that’s what will happen”

*1952*

“So, this statue was gifted to the Queen and she re-gifted it to us?”

The Head historian chuckled softly at his assistant. 

“That’s right, Jerry. She didn’t give an explanation about how she got it, but one of my contacts in the Royal Historian’s office told me that Francis Drake had discovered it and gifted it to Queen Elizabeth the first”

“Oh wow” Jerry said in awe, carefully prying the top of the crate up with a crowbar, and then peering inside as the Head historian kept reading the statue description his contact had given him.

“When Drake discovered it, all he could see was a young boy’s face, tucked into his arm –“

“Young boy, you say?” Jerry interrupted, looking over his shoulder at his boss with a frown.

“Yeah, that’s right, It says it right here” he tapped the paper on the clipboard that had come with the crated statue. “Why do you ask?”

“Because this statue is definitely not a young boy” Jerry said as he pulled off one side of the crate with a grunt, revealing the entire statue, which was as large as a human man, and the face was of a young man, it even appeared to have a light stubble.

The Head historian frowned and crouched down to peer closely at the statue. “Well damn. Maybe Francis Drake needed glasses”

Jerry let out a laugh and shrugged. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Where do you think we should put it?”

“Mm, we could put it in the Francis Drake exhibit” the boss pondered. “Or the royalty section, we could make a timeline of where it’s been and who it belonged to.”

“There is a section open in the Royalty section” Jerry pointed out as they both lifted the crate onto a trolley which they started to wheel through the dimly lit halls of the museum, the lights out, the museum closed for the night.

*2020*

The crowds bustled through the Natural History Museum, walking amongst the displays and items that told a story, retelling the history that the museum contained. One of those items that was widely popular was the pitch black rock statue of a half man half dragon figure, curled up on his knees, his wings draped over himself as if to protect himself from something, and if you looked close enough, there was a faint tear track that ran down his cheek. There was a plaque next to it that described its travel through history, focusing on the royalty that had possession of it. And beside it was a newer plaque that had been recently added, explaining the work and tests that scientists had done on the statue in order to explain why the statue had been described as growing. There was no viable explanation as the tests showed that the statue was made out of pure rock, a certain type that was especially rare, and it had only been found on one tiny isolated island and found nowhere else.

After 40 years, the scientists just stopped. And as interest slowly diminished over the years, the statue only caught the attention of passersby who didn’t stop.

Every night, as the museum closed, there was only silence in the Royalty section. Except for one night where there was a sound of rock cracking as the statue that was aptly named ‘The lost angel’ slowly stood up.


End file.
